The Path of Sand pt. 1

Taking stock of his opponents, Tarmen was glad this was a free for all. The lady of knives was a high concern, as well as any others who would be using range, which included the woman with the spear. He wondered about trying for some quick alliances to have some help until the end or whenever he chose. Looking to his closest contestants didn’t give much hope to that idea, the Spear and Tulwar glaring back with cold murderous intent. No diplomacy here it seemed.
With the size of the arena he could barely distinguish the faces of the crowd, just a sea of waving hands and endless noise. Not that it mattered for the fight, but seeing how it could rival something from home was… rather refreshing. Once again this place that he hated was somehow so similar to Kru’ll.
He could have put more thought into it, but a calming of the crowd drew his attention.
Tarmen heard a voice lord over the waning clamor, speaking so fluently that he couldn’t catch up. He only picked up the final word, echoed across the arena and quickly drowned out by the enthusiastic roars of the crowd.
“Tei’rek!”
There was a moment of tense hesitation between the contestants, sizing each other up a final time and deciding where to strike, not wanting to be the first to leave a potential opening. From the other side of the arena a cry rang out, then seemingly as one the rest chose their targets and moved.
Tarmen found himself against the almost jovial ax wielder, trading blow for blow with no immediate chance at victory. If his hunch on a relation to Ekero’s kind was right, he had much respect for what that culture could produce. The man fought like an animal, almost spinning like a top at times to effectively keep Tarmen at bay and he was forced to be reckless at times, several bleeding cuts and pieces of shorn leather being the price to get some sort of advantage.
He heard many death cries around him, inferior warriors falling or skilled foes being beaten he couldn’t know, though he kept his senses aware of where his eyes were blind. He had seen too many felled by a stray arrow or backstabbing from being too focused on the foes in front of them to risk a similar mistake.
This soon proved the right move, a distinct whistle catching his ear, instinct bringing him into a low crouch as a dagger found itself in his opponent's chest. To his credit, the man merely howled at its sender, before ripping the blade out. Tarmen heard the woman curse as he rolled to his feet, hearing several more projectiles strike the sand where he had been.
The trio squared off anew, Tarmen luckily having the arena wall to his back, able to keep Axes and Knives equally in his sight.
Here he slipped, choosing to notice Tulwar nearby smashing into Spear. She had used her weapon well, Tulwar bleeding from several wounds, including the newest one caused by his reckless charge. Tarmen didn’t get to see how that played out as he caught Knives diving in at the last moment, deflecting a dagger into the wall that was meant for his side. A headbutt gave him some room, only for the woman to face the rage of Axes. While an equal to the madman, Tarmen knew he would struggle against Knives and so joined the assault against her.
A thought momentarily passed through his mind and if Tarmen hadn’t been in a blood bowl he would have found it funny. Facing this sandstorm of a woman reminded him of the men of Fang and their view on women. He could imagine how Knives would have reacted to such treatment.
How she ducked and weaved through both of their attacks was a wonder, physical prowess that rivaled that of Voah. For each dodge, an extra knick was given back and Tarmen could swear they faced five daggers instead of two.
This pattern broke when she finally got Axes above the knee, the wounded leg instantly buckling without the now severed tendon. Facing such a crippling injury, Axes launched himself wholly at Knives with a bellowing death cry. Even as the daggers ensured his death, the weight of the attack left her pinned as Tarmen approached. He admired the efficiency in how she fought to get the dead weight off, but it wasn’t quick enough to avoid being beheaded.
As ever, he wasn’t given a chance to rest, suddenly being tackled himself. At first he bit and slashed zealously, only to realize his attacker was already well and fully dead. The limp form of Spear was easy to roll aside, allowing Tarmen to see a battered Tulwar approaching.
In the time he had last seen them, Spear had truly done a number on the hulking Tulwar. Joining the multiple jabs and slices was a bleeding eye socket, though Tarmen could almost feel the brutal fury emanating from it.
The two had a moment to breathe, Tarmen’s hand completely numb and his muscles aflame from the fight. Tulwar made the first move, spitting bloody phlegm onto the sand before belting a war cry. The charge was easy to dodge with the convenient blind spot, Tarmen finding the perfect opening to kick a knee sideways and bring the brute down quickly. Trying to swing his hefty blade to keep Tarmen at bay didn’t go any better, the tulwar deflected swiftly before the machete skinned a strip from the arm up to the elbow, forcing Tulwar to drop his blade to the sand.
Seething breaths of pain and rage came from the massive warrior, but they were useless to stop the Kru’ll man before him. A simple swing that was sloppy from fatigue only cut halfway through the broad neck, but it brought death all the same.
Kicking the body to free his blade, Tarmen looked around him for any others and spotted another survivor.

Tei’rek: Death